Rose Colored Glasses
by Deathless Wraith
Summary: NiouYagyuu. Yagyuu Hiroshi loved flowers, an affection planted by his deceased mother. He was isolated inside his garden and empty home until a strong wind named Niou Masaharu carried him away. COMPLETE.
1. Of Distorted Vision and Beginnings

_Rose-Colored Glasses_

Yagyuu Hiroshi had always loved flowers. When he was young, his mother showed him how to plant and take care of them. He tended to the fragile blossoms painstakingly. His reward was the rich beauty of the petals, made brighter by his rapidly darkening world. When his mother was diagnosed with cancer, he didn't understand. He would beg his mother to teach him more about the flowers he loved, but she would smile softly at him and say, "Sorry, sweetheart, but I can't today." She would fall asleep right in the middle of talking to him, and he would cry quietly by her bed, knowing somehow that something was very wrong. When she'd wake, she'd scold him for his red-ringed eyes. But she'd never tell him that she would be fine, because children could always sense the truth.

She would write journals for him, trying to transcribe all of the things that she wouldn't live to tell her only son. In the pages were crushed flowers to accent her neat scripture. She passed away on a Thursday morning in the summertime, when the sun was burning off the clouds and cool dawn mist.

Yagyuu couldn't touch her journals. The utter devastation of losing her was too big a burden to bear. They sat in a drawer in his dresser for two years before he picked up the first spiral bound notebook. His mother disliked the fancy leather-covered journals, saying that they were too pretty to write in. He would sit under a shade tree in his backyard and listen to his mother by leafing through her memory. Every spring, his flowers would bloom faithfully, and he would admire them. They would become his new family. He would lose himself in the laborious work of gardening and tennis.

When his eyesight worsened in fourth-grade, he opted for lenses with a special coating. With the reflective surfaces, it was impossible to see his eyes. He was satisfied knowing that even if he cried, no one would be able to tell from his red-ringed eyes.

The death of his mother was heartbreaking to his father, who coped by immersing himself in his work. Yagyuu was often left in an empty, echoing house, eating dinner alone in a gray world. He grew bitter at too young an age, and became almost mute. When he needed to speak, he was concise and extremely polite. His teachers loved him for scoring high marks and behaving. They never noticed how little he spoke. Actually, they didn't really notice him at all. No one did. That is, until Niou.

It was the first day of middle school at Rikkaidai. Yagyuu was sitting calmly at his desk, reading, invisible. Everyone around him was buzzing excitedly with chatter and nerves. Suddenly, his book slammed shut and he looked up sharply, ready chase away the idiot who decided to irritate him.

What he got was a smirk from a silver-haired boy who sat himself on the edge of Yagyuu's desk. "Hey. I'm Niou Masaharu."

The friendliness of a stranger left him mystified. "Yagyuu Hiroshi." His name came unwanted from his lips.

"Yagyuu Hiroshi. Just wanted to see what you were reading." Niou shot him a disarming smile before leaving to take his seat. Yagyuu felt his presence for the rest of the day.

After that day, he and Niou rarely talked. However, they were always aware of where the other was in the room, paying careful attention without interacting. The next year, he and Niou were not in the same class.

But to his surprise, the silver-haired boy was in the tennis club. The greater surprise was hearing the request to play a game.

"You're pretty good." Niou panted. They had just finished a long volley against each other. 4-4. When Yagyuu didn't respond, Niou grew aggravated. "What? Do you hate me so much that you won't even talk to me?"

"I forfeit." Yagyuu said before heading to the locker room. He had to get away.

"What the hell is your problem?" Niou yelled at him before throwing down his racket in frustration. Unwittingly, someone was watching the confrontation from outside the tennis courts.

"Interesting."

At lunch the next day, Yagyuu was sitting under the biggest tree on campus. It was deserted; most people clustered on the rooftop or in the classrooms. However, his peace was disturbed by the last person he wanted to see.

"This spot taken?"

"What do you want, Niou Masaharu-san?" Yagyuu's polite manner betrayed no sign of the extreme irritation he was currently feeling.

"I just wanted to talk to you. That illegal?"

"Why do you want to talk to me?"

"Why the hell do you talk like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you're worthless."

"What if I am?"  
"I'm going to hit you."

"Go ahead."

"You're fucking insane."

Silence. Yagyuu had just said more in one minute than he had to anyone else in the past year. How had that happened? His words just poured out.

Niou abruptly swiveled around to get a better look at Yagyuu. When he looked away, Niou grabbed the sides of his head. "Let me see your face."

"No."

"Take off your glasses."

"No."

"Fine. But one day, you'll let me see your face."

"How are you so certain?"

"I'm not. But you will."

The bell rang.

To Be Continued


	2. Of Twilight Meetings in Secret Garden

From then on, Niou stayed with him. They rarely talked. Sometimes Niou fell asleep, lying in the grass in the warm sunshine. It was then that Yagyuu would truly examine his face.

The news that they would be a doubles team was unexpected, but they didn't object and slowly grew accustomed to each other's movements and strategies. Niou mentioned one day that they should see each other outside of school and tennis, as a way to become a more fearsome adversary to the other doubles. Yagyuu hadn't replied.

Niou appeared on his doorstep during a Friday afternoon two weeks later. Wearing his trademark smirk, he calmly invited himself inside.

"What do you want to eat for dinner?"

Yagyuu shut the front door.

After a simple meal, Niou disappeared, giving himself a tour. Yagyuu washed the dishes, knowing full well that if he kicked out his doubles partner, he'd force his way back inside. The clinking of the dishes was interrupted by a shout.

"Hey, show me your room!"

Sighing, Yagyuu dried his hands. "Why do you need me to show you? You seem perfectly comfortable on your own."

"It's not the same. I want you to tell me about it." Niou insisted.

Yagyuu's room was bare. Aside from the furniture, the only personal belongings were the mass of books. It was blank, all white, with nothing to dirty and nothing to clean. Niou shivered at the feeling of unfamiliarity, reminiscent of cold, clinical hospital rooms and the identical rooms of hotels. He stood in silence, thinking of the stark contrast to his black, cluttered but organized room. "There's nothing here."

"I don't spend much time in this room." Yagyuu said simply. To him, it served the purpose of having a place to sleep and store clothing. There was no other use for it.

"Then show me something that does mean a lot to you."

Yagyuu hesitated slightly before he grabbed Niou's hand. Weaving through the doorways of the enormous, empty house, he led his friend outside. A garden of heavy-scented flowers was waiting to greet the two. The sky was the picture of twilight, with only a streak of neon blue illuminated on the horizon. The rest was dark, with stars scattered across the night.

"This is amazing." Niou breathed, taking in the sight of a backyard Eden. "Did you do this yourself?" He leaned down to gently cradle a blossom with his palm.

"Yes. My mother used to plant them with me."

"What happened to your mother? And where's your father?"

"My mother passed away when I was young. My father is busy with work."

"How busy? Does he even come home?"

"To sleep and shower."

"You mean you're alone almost all the time?"

"I suppose."

"It's cruel, isn't it? To be left with only your thoughts and your mind…" Niou thought aloud, looking up. His eyes glowed with an almost inhuman light. He could see them in Yagyuu's lenses.

Controlled by a force stronger than him, his hands reached up to Yagyuu's face and softly touched the edges of his glasses. With his eyes asking permission, he slowly slid off the mirror-like frames. The chilling blue eyes that gazed unguarded for the first time in years were bottomless, a well of loss and loneliness.

"You're gorgeous." Niou said, his fingers caressing the edges of Yagyuu's eyes. Yagyuu winced, his lashes fluttered shut and his face going slack. His body crumbled slowly, his limp weight supported by Niou's strong arms. When he woke, he was lying in the pitch black darkness, surrounded by the scent of flowers and the sound of Niou's breathing as he slept.


	3. Of Churches and Chocolate, Pictures and ...

After the incident in the garden, the doubles partners stayed together. Yagyuu was able to bond with the rest of the tennis team, with Niou's pushy help. The two often went to a nearby church, though neither was Christian. They went during the weekdays, after tennis practice, to avoid Sunday mass-goers. They would sit together on a stone bench, speaking quietly to each other and basking in the sunshine. The trees were a vivid green, and the gardens well-kept. It was here that Hiroshi felt the most peace. He and Niou could have stayed there forever, watching the trees cycle through time, the flowers wilt and bloom. Eternity had never been so close.

It was in this sanctuary that Niou first embraced him, and whispered, "Hiroshi."

The word hit like a ton of bricks. Without even realizing, he had fallen in love. Somehow, his friend had worn away his defenses, tore down his shields, and bypassed his guards. After believing his heart was unreachable for so long, a thief had stolen it away without a sound.

"One day, Hiroshi. I'll take you away from here." 

Yagyuu searched feverishly through his chest of drawers. He found a worn, dark green notebook and looked for his mother's reassurance on the pages.

Hiroshi,  
The winter has come, and my health is failing. I wanted to write for you, so that I could be there even when my body is gone. If you are angry at me for leaving you, then I am truly, deeply sorry. I wish things had turned out differently. I love you so much; the thought of leaving you is more painful than my disease. I know you are young, but you will find love one day, and they will feel the same. You will love without discrimination, just as you love every flower equally. When you are with your love, it will be as if time had stood still, just for the two of you. I wish you good luck in life and love, my only child. If you need me, I'll be waiting in these notebooks. Be happy.

They were sitting in the living room when Yagyuu suddenly rested his head on Niou's shoulder. When there was no objection, Yagyuu finally began to talk. For three hours, he talked, and Niou listened. His words poured forth relentlessly, exhausting him as he told about being abandoned by his father, losing his mother, and existing without notice at school. His pain of having only lovely flowers and words on paper to keep him company. Afterwards, Niou laid him down on the couch before covering him with a fleece blanket, smoothing his hair before getting up to make hot cocoa. They drank in silence, and when they kissed, it was of chocolate and lilac on a brightly cold Sunday morning.

Pictures are worth a thousand words, so people say. It was their last year of middle school when Niou first pulled Yagyuu into a photo booth outside of the movie theater. Hiroshi's face was made up of a closed-lip smile, the corners faintly turned up. His glasses reflected the flash, light glaring back harshly. Niou gave a white grin, a smirk crinkling his eyes.

Over time and many other photos, Yagyuu's smile gradually became less protected, and he began to look genuinely happy. His glasses continued to conceal his eyes, and no amount of Niou's pestering could convince him to take them off.

"Hey." Yagyuu looked up from his book to see a shadowed figure leaning against the door frame. He was sitting cross-legged in the center of his bed, the white comforter glowing brightly in the light.

"Afternoon, Masaharu. What's that?" Yagyuu gestered to the object Niou was holding. It was a Polaroid camera.

"Take off your glasses." A command.

"No." He responded automatically. A glance, then a surrender. "Fine." 

Yagyuu reached up to carefully slid off his shield.

"Look at me."

Running a hand through his hair nervously, Yagyuu tilted his face to the camera. A click sounded, capturing his unprotected face.

"Thank you, Hiroshi."

When the picture developed, the two gathered around it. Yagyuu's expression was a strange mix of apprehension, a slight sadness, joy. His eyes were vast waters of emotion, his pupils wide and endless; his hair mussed. A smile pulled his lips open across his teeth. In the background, his room was decorated with paintings Niou had made for him. A vase of fresh-cut flowers sat by the window, and the sun was shining through to make squares of light on the hardwood floor. 

When he went to Niou's house a few days later, the picture was framed and sitting on his nightstand. It was the first picture of him alone, happy.

After that shot was taken, Niou almost obsessively took pictures of Hiroshi, posing him in the garden, at the church, in his room, gazing out over the empty tennis courts at Rikkai. He collected them into a collage for Yagyuu's 18th birthday.

"Hey, Hiroshi?"  
"What is it?"  
"Run away with me?"  
"Not yet. I can't leave yet."  
"When?"  
"...When my flowers die."

Niou smiled sadly and understood. The flowers rooted in the earth were the only things that could keep him here. When the bond was broken, they would escape this crowded, lifeless city. He turned to the window and stared up at the sky.

They loaded their things into a small car a week after they graduated from high school, taking only what they needed. Yagyuu's garden had withered and died when a heat wave smothered the city. He climbed into the passenger seat and took one long last look at the house that was never a home. There would be no note waiting for his father when he came home from work. The engine started. Niou peeled away down the deserted street as the fallen leaves danced down the road. Flower petals blew across the surface of Yagyuu's glasses as the wind, sun, and Niou's ringing laughter spirited them away without a trace.


End file.
